Some things never change. You can go years without seeing the guy you liked when you were thirteen, and still love him with the same blush inducing intensity when you meet him again in high school. Although I've never been to high school, I hear it's a fun experience. At least you don't have to learn how to kill people.
It makes me wonder why I chose this life.
Oh yeah.
My parents were fucking eaten.
Isn't life grand?
---
Seven years after Sasuke's transfer (a.k.a, Sakura's nineteen).
---
My alarm went off. It was six-o-clock in the morning, the sun just starting to rise.
I sprung up without a thought and scurried into the shower, bumbling and fumbling with my change of clothes and my towel. I was a morning person by nature; I could get up at three in the morning and be right as rain by three thirty as long as I got in a shower before doing something that required brain function.
Thank goodness I don't have to wear glasses. It would be horrible to stumble around and be half blind at the same time. I turned on a little cold and all of the hot before stepping in. Halfway through rinsing out my shampoo, I turned off the last of the cold and let out a sigh. I got out quickly, and spent the next ten minutes drying off, doing my hair and putting on deodorant (scentless so that the infected can't smell me) and was in the debriefing room by six thirty.
"Sakura. How are you?" It was Tsunade. How is it she's always here? Her quarters are on the other side of the base!
After Sasuke transferred in, we decided that the crumbling training rooms and leaky living quarters needed a bit revamping (pardoning the pun. revamping, get it?) and we completely rebuilt the base in another part of the city.
Our main entrance was located under a local park, and hidden of an abandoned walking trail. So with out new shiny rooms and new shiny weapons we started hitting the vamps harder than ever.
And they started hitting us back. Only this time they didn't go after a single scientist making a cure (like my father), oh no. They went after our headquarters.
But, the thing is....vampires aren't very smart. They retain moderate human intelligence, but tend to overlook things, and we can be very inconspicuous (hell, we're practically ninjas, the way we operate). We slaughtered them the second they went into our park.
Well, we only slaughtered some. The rest we saved.
Kind of.
We kept some advanced cases in out lab for study, to work on making a more advanced cure based upon my father's research.
It didn't really end to well, at least for them. After we had the information and had done the research we needed, we cured them and let them go.
After their apparent defeat, the larger hordes hung low, sticking to small smuggling rings, trying to keep under the radar.
---
Between the ages of twelve and eighteen, I went on nine A-rank missions, 12 B-rank missions and 16 C-rank missions. All of my A-rank missions lasted longer than a week, and the B-rank ones lasted longer than two days each.
Sasuke Uchiha. That little bitch.
After that first mission I served with him, you would've thought he would have learned.
No.
He only learned how to get on my bad side.
When you get on my bad side, you don't get off until you can admit that you did something to piss on my morals (well, the one's I have left anyway).
Me? Bitter? No…….
Anyway, Naruto and him became all buddy-buddy for some reason (Is it male bonding? The whole beat each other up once and your friends for life? Is that how it works?), and there-for I had to see his smug thin-lipped face every fucking day.
It sucked.
Actually he's not all that thin-lipped. He's pretty good looking. He's got great eye-lashes. Their super long, and his eyes! Gah, why can't I get eyes like his? They're midnight blue-gray, so dark they're almost black…and…why am I talking about him?!?!
Well, I had been hoping my first S-rank mission would be better than eating dog shit, but I was wrong.
I've been partnered with Sasuke Uchiha. We get to infiltrate a horde that are human smugglers, and apparently, we get to test out a drug that gives you most of the symptoms of being infected, only no blood-lust.
We get to become undercover vamps.
Life is so good to me. Wow. I wonder which deity I pissed off in my past life.
---
Day of the mission
---
I was getting ready in my quarters. I took the first of my soon to be daily injections, and I could almost feel myself changing. The lights were becoming brighter; everything seemed almost surreal, like life was broadcasted in HD, only better. I could count the threads in the blanket on my bed; almost smell the cow whose skin was made into my leather jacket. I could discern the different colors used to make my jeans such a faded blue.
It was freaky; I was becoming everything I had helped to destroy. I only hoped that the real infected wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Plus, I had to learn hoe to act like a blood thirsty monster.
It shouldn't be too hard. I mostly am one after all.
---
I met Sasuke on my way to Tsunade's office. He didn't look remotely happy, and kept twitching in the flickering fluorescent lights. They were quite annoying, but I could see the spectrum of the rainbow splayed across the white walls by them. We walked to her office together, both in civilian clothes.
It turns out we both have pretty decent fashion sense. He was in a long-sleeved skin-tight Abercrombie t-shirt with a pair of baggy washed out jeans and a pair of scuffed up sneakers. I was wearing my leather jacket, my faded boot cut jeans (with boots for once), and a dark green sleeveless halter top. Personally I don't know the brands, and I fortunately don't really give a shit.
We strode into her office, both of us more than a little cranky and full of nervous energy. She looked up from her mug of tea, papers clutched in her other hand, glasses balance precariously on her nose.
Her frown sunk deeper into her face, both of her carefully plucked eyebrows knitting together. She's got to use wrinkle cream or something, she's at least forty-five.
"Oh, good. Both of you are on time. I take it both of you took the injection?" As she started explaining the details of the mission, I relaxed and paid careful attention. Mistakes on an S-rank can get you killed. Almost anyone who worked here could tell you that.
Out of every five personnel sent on a mission of this caliber, only three came back. Only two out of five survive S-rank.
That means there's a very good chance Sasuke or I may not make it back to base in two weeks.
If it comes down to which one of us has to die, I sincerely hope it's him. There's no way in heaven or hell that I'm sticking my warm blood and neck out for a bitch like him.